Motorcycle Charade
by Rysler
Summary: Sam crashes her motorcycle and tries to hide her injuries during a mission. - Warning: Sam whumping. SamJanet (pre-slash).


Title: Motorcycle Charade  
Author: Rysler  
Date: 07/27/04  
Pairing: Sam/Janet, pre-slash  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Sam whumping (Whump whump whump)  
Summary: Sam crashes her motorcycle.  
Notes: I wrote this at someone's request, but I don't remember whose. Very early Season 1. Credit to Scott for the title.  
  
o o o o o o  
  
The wreckage wasn't visible from the road. White headlight beams would sweep over the area as cars passed, but the recesses of the ravine weren't illuminated. The mangled motorcycle lay on its side on a slope, a few feet lower than the wounded, still form of Captain Sam Carter. She was lying on her left side.  
  
Another car sped past. The roar of approaching and retreating sound drummed into Sam's skull, and she groaned in protest. Her hand was pounding enough without zippy Coloradoans heading for their third shift adding to the noise pollution.  
  
The black motorcycle helmet, always snug, now felt like it was squeezing her head. While the pressure on her blood vessels was probably keeping her from a lot of pain, if she didn't get the helmet off soon, she was worried her head might swell too much and be crushed.  
  
As soon as she could move, the helmet was top priority. She gingerly inventoried the rest of her body. Nothing seemed to be broken, but she'd landed hard, and the bike had fallen on top of her before bouncing to its place below her in the dust. The right side of her lower back ached, near her kidneys, and probably other important internal components.  
  
The sudden fear of internal injury shocked Carter cold. That could not happen. She had to be okay.  
  
She inhaled. No sharp pains, only the dull, constant pounding. And the hurting.  
  
Oh god, the hurting.  
  
Finally, Carter moved. She rolled over onto her back, crying out softly as pain erupted in her left arm. She waited until it subsided, then clenched her left fist, wincing as she felt a weaker twinge. She opened her eyes and saw spots swimming in the darkness. She quickly shut her eyes again against the sudden nausea that had come with the spots. Definitely a head injury. Concussion?  
  
Helmet, helmet.  
  
She reached up toward her head, then yelped, the agony in her left elbow forcing her to drop her arm back to the ground. She gritted her teeth. She must have sprained the elbow. Stupid arm.  
  
It took a long time to manuver her helmet off with just her right hand. As soon as the helmet rolled into the dirt, Sam saw the error of removing it while on her back. She retched, quickly rolling onto her right side. She vomited three times, and the strain of her heaves and the sudden movement left her hurting worse. A new ache started in her side.  
  
She carefully moved her left arm so that she could press against the cramp. One pain abated, Sam allowed herself a short laugh.  
  
The sweet scent of wine came from the vomit newly fertilizing the desert. So much for retaining the fun portion of her night.  
  
Removing the helmet had made her light-headed. Carter kept her eyes closed and tried not to move. Instead, she focused on happier times, like the beginning of the evening. She'd shown up with a bottle of wine...  
  
o o o o o o  
  
"Oh, thank you, Sam," Janet took the bottle from her hands. "A good brand. Are you a wine connoisseur?" Janet's tone was light and teasing.  
  
Sam blushed under her gaze. "I called my brother in California. He, at least, knows more than I do."  
  
Janet led her into the apartment and took her coat, pausing for a moment to stroke the soft leather. "You have a brother? I envisioned you as such a lone wolf."  
  
Sam laughed. "A brother and a father, too. I'm... not very close to my dad, but I'm a very similar to him."  
  
"You mean there are two of you?" Janet chided.  
  
Sam gave the doctor a feral grin as they walked into the living room. She felt comfortable in Janet's presence, which surprised her. She was used to being one of the boys at the bar, but the invitation to a Girls Game Night for officers had filled her with trepidation. She wasn't so polished on the female bonding thing. Mostly because there were usually no other females to bond with in her line of work at her rank, but there were other reasons for her to keep to herself.  
  
Her appointment to SG1 and her involvement in the greatest scientific discovery since nuclear physics had boosted her confidence to a point where she was willing to try something new. And Janet Fraiser was not a person whose invitations you rejected.  
  
o o o o o o  
  
Sam smiled to herself as she relived the evening. Besides Janet and herself, four other women had come to the party, and Sam had been defeated soundly at Trivial Pursuit, but had held her own at Pictionary. When the night was drawing to a close, Janet had helped her back into her jacket, and Sam swore the woman's touch had lingered on her shoulders. They'd shaken hands and Sam had headed for her bike.  
  
She knew what had caused her to spin out of control when after she was taken surprise by the blurry vision of the oncoming truck. It wasn't the alcohol or the excitement or the post-adrenaline exhaustion from the denouement of the evening. She'd been thinking of Janet Fraiser. Thoughts of the small, commanding woman distracted her to the point where she hadn't been sure anything existed beyond Janet's dark eyes... until the 18-wheeler reminded her.  
  
Sam sighed, and began the long, painful process of getting to her feet. She needed to check on the bike and see if it would get her back to the base for SG1's mission at 0630 hours. She didn't want to call anyone and have to confess what happened.  
  
o o o o o o  
  
"Jaffa, kree!" Colonel Jack O'Neill hissed loudly, flat on his stomach on an outcropping, overlooking a Jaffa camp.  
  
Teal'c, Daniel Jackson, and Sam all looked at him warily.  
  
He glanced around. "What? This is the third planet in a row we've found with outposts and pyramids. I think a little punchiness is called for, don't you?"  
  
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. The other two team members ignored him.  
  
O'Neill snorted. "Fine. Whose Jaffa are these, Teal'c?"  
  
The large man peered into binoculars. "I believe they are the warriors of Heru'ur."  
  
O'Neill nodded. "Okay. Mark it, map it, and then we're out of here."  
  
Carter sighed inwardly with relief. There were at least two hours of work in the mapping, and then a five hour hike back to the Stargate, but at least the end of the mission was in sight, barring any unforeseen events. Her body hurt. She went through phases of pain--from dull aches to sharp agony to what felt like rivers of nails in her blood. She'd felt alternately cold, hot, shaky, and clammy. The mission had mostly involved walking with a 40 pound pack and a P90. She sometimes wished for more action to distract her, and sometimes was grateful the team's well-being wasn't in her immediate hands.  
  
For most of the day she'd taken point, Teal'c's usual role, in order to avoid having to converse. Daniel liked to bond during long hikes through the wilderness, and she knew he'd pick up on her condition. As each hour passsed the pain increased and she got more desperate and more willing to confess to the Colonel that she was injured. But the longer she waited, the more her fear of repercussions increased. She was now not just injured from being wild off-duty, she was keeping secret from a commanding officer.  
  
Handfuls of ibuprofen had dulled the pain every few hours, until she began to get nauseous. She was afraid to eat much, and afraid to take any other medications that might slow her down. As an astrophysicist, she'd seen a lot of speed freaks, especially ones on the verge of a breakthrough.  
  
The breakthroughs had never come for them. She had Stargate. She wasn't going to fuck that up.  
  
She could be booted out of the program, and she allowed herself a moment of self-pity and misdirection at the girls' night out. Female bonding had definitely been a bad idea, no matter how much she wanted to get into Janet's good graces...  
  
Janet. Maybe Janet would help her. If she could get back to the base.  
  
Sam began to bargain. "Please, God, if you let me get back to the base, I'll never do this again... I'll never do this again."  
  
o o o o o o  
  
Eight hours later, SG1 stumbled through the Stargate. All four of them were exhausted, and Sam had been able to suffer a little more openly, as just one of the gang. However, when O'Neill had clapped her on the back like a buddy and commented on how good it was to be home, she nearly threw up on his boots.  
  
After the debriefing, which seemed interminable, longer even, than the mission, because she was so close to her objective, she went to the infirmary. Doctor Awa, who'd been at Janet's party, was there, and informed Sam that Janet was off for the night. Sam declined Awa's help, and headed for the surface. One more bike ride...  
  
Sam knocked on the door to Janet's apartment, feeling like a fool. Pale and shaking from pain and being awake for too many hours, it had been hard for her to convince a passerby to let her through the security gate. But she'd managed, and now she was standing outside of a casual friend's apartment about to ask a favor that a lover might have a hard time doing. "Hello? Would you lie to your country for me? If you're even home?" Sam rested her forehead on the door and exhaled. Maybe Janet was out. Maybe Janet had a life.  
  
Well, she'd return and find Sam dead on her front steps. That would teach her. Sam was debating about how to pose her corpse for maximum effect when the door swung open. "Sam?"  
  
Sam gaped. Janet had obviously been in the shower when she started knocking, and the small woman was now wearing a terrycloth bathrobe, and staring at Sam.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Janet asked curiously.  
  
"I need your help." Sam, suddenly faced with Janet being naked under her robe, after the stress of the mission and the trauma of the accident, was weak-kneed. "Can I come in?"  
  
Janet warily stepped away from the door.  
  
Sam stumbled in and sank to her knees. "Nice carpet," she said wonderingly. Then she passed out.  
  
o o o o o o  
  
When she came to, she was still on the floor, but had a pillow under her head and her shirt was pushed up to her breasts. With the hard floor underneath her and the cold air brushing her exposed skin, Sam wondered if she was part of an alien abduction. "Janet?" She managed.  
  
Janet's face appeared, disembodied, over hers. "Sam," the doctor said with relief.  
  
Sam licked her lips, and tried sit up. Her head protested with a pounding headache that reached all the way to her neck. She lay back down.  
  
"Sam," Janet said softly, kneeling next to her. "What did you do? Why aren't you at the base? Why are you here? Did something happen on the mission? Are Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson--" She stopped abruptly, realizing the fish impression Sam was doing with her lips meant she was trying to talk.  
  
"Motorcycle accident. After the party," Sam confessed, her eyes trying to focus on a spot where Janet's face wasn't. Which was hard, since she couldn't move her head.  
  
"Sam! That was two nights ago. You should be at the base."  
  
"Please," Sam gasped. "Don't tell them. I... went on the mission like this. I put them in danger. I could be thrown out of the program. Please."  
  
"Sam," Janet sighed. "I don't want to lie for you."  
  
Want, she'd said. Not couldn't. Sam relaxed a little. "It'll never happen again. Ever. I promised--" She paused.  
  
"Who?" Janet peered at her.  
  
"God?" Sam blushed. "Janet...It was a stupid Captain's mistake. I learned my lesson. Trust me...I'd so much rather have spent the last 20 hours in the infirmary. Even--" She took a breath. "If you weren't there."  
  
Janet smiled. "Well, you are going to spend the next 20 hours in a bed here."  
  
Sam was delighted.  
  
"And we are going to talk at length about how this will never happen, again."  
  
Sam sighed.  
  
"Were you drinking at the party, Sam?"  
  
"No! Just half of a wine spritzer. I didn't even like it that much. Smelled good after it came back up, though."  
  
The trained doctor in Janet only looked sympathetic as she squeezed the Captain's shoulder.  
  
"Then what? I know you're a good driver, Sam. And a responsible officer."  
  
Sam looked into Janet's face, trying to gauge her thoughts, wondering what lurked behind those dark eyes. "I was thinking..." She started, choosing her words carefully. "That I'd have liked to come over to your house again. It was nice..." She blushed. "The party, I mean."  
  
"Sam..." Janet chided. Her hand moved from Sam's shoulder to her face, and she cupped the smooth cheek. "There are easier ways to get my attention."


End file.
